


Bigger Picture

by AllegoriesInMediasRes, ReganX



Series: Mary I of England: AU stories [1]
Category: 16th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF, The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Inspired by Fanfiction, On the Edge of a Golden World, Oneshot, ReganX
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 00:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13178919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllegoriesInMediasRes/pseuds/AllegoriesInMediasRes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReganX/pseuds/ReganX
Summary: 1539. Anne Boleyn makes a decision that has her sister reeling.





	Bigger Picture

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [On The Edge Of A Golden World](https://archiveofourown.org/works/359307) by [ReganX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReganX/pseuds/ReganX). 



> WARNING! Spoiler alert for ReganX’s On the Edge of a Golden World. Don’t read any further if you have not read that one yet. This story will also not make sense without that one.
> 
> I’m back after nearly six months, with a companion fic to ReganX’s magnum opus. This is set during Chapter 27, sometime before Mary comes to court. I wrote this to explore more deeply why Anne agreed for Mary to become one of her ladies when she believed Mary had tried to poison her.
> 
> Anne’s sister is called Marianne in this fic to differentiate between the two Marys.
> 
> Major thanks to ReganX for giving me permission to write this piece.

**_October 1539_ **

“She’ll have you dead within the week!”

The shrill voice of Marianne Stafford from inside the queen’s bedchamber drew the stare of every lady-in-waiting milling in the outer apartments. When no more outbursts issued from the chamber, they returned to their chores.

Inside the bedchamber, the argument continued, though in a suitably quieter tone. It would not do, after all, for eavesdroppers to hear about this particular topic.

Anne paid her sister’s temper no mind as she continued rifling through her jewelry chest, searching for the right headpiece to match her gown. “As my head lady-in-waiting, I thought you should be the first to know. The Lady Mary joins us tomorrow.”

“When you told me you had prepared an opportunity for the Lady Mary to prove her loyalty, I didn’t expect it to be an opportunity for a second attempt at murder!” Marianne whispered furiously.

“But who would be willing to help her now?” Anne asked logically, looking up from her jewelry box. “I highly doubt anyone will want to associate themselves with her now, especially after what happened to the last assassin she employed. Unless she is willing to get her hands dirty and do it herself.”

“She’s desperate enough. She wants to be queen, and she’s willing to do anything to get rid of you so that she can steal back the throne! I wouldn’t put it past her to strangle you with her bare hands, if it occurs to her. That girl is like a cornered dog, and the minute she sees an opening, she’ll bite back!”

Anne wanted to respond, but the morning’s duties were pressing upon them, so she contented herself with a hissed, “We’ll finish this discussion tonight.”

Marianne pressed her lips together, but she nodded curtly. In silence, she helped her sister lace up her gown and arrange her hood. Anne could feel her disapproval rolling off her in waves, even as they strode together out of her apartments and down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

It wasn’t that Anne thought Marianne’s fears were baseless. She knew her sister had a point; her words about Mary and desperation, in particular, had struck a chord with Anne, who knew firsthand the kind of desperation Marianne had been talking about. The kind of desperation that left her hollow and aching, that had haunted her in the months and years before Harry’s birth, that had driven her to dizzying heights of paranoia that seemed foreign to her now. The desperation that had driven her to spend inordinate amounts of time scheming how to poison Mary and what methods would be most efficient and easily concealed.

Yes, Anne certainly knew a thing or two about desperation. Victory had granted her the gift of hindsight, allowing her to grasp such parallels that she might have once denied, and Anne was now honest enough to admit that she might have found herself in Mary’s shoes, had she been given the opportunity.

But that was the defining word: _opportunity_. Desperation must coincide with opportunity in order to turn deadly, and Anne was determined that the Lady Mary would not be given a second opportunity. Whatever else Mary was, she was not stupid, and would not execute so haphazard a plan as Marianne suggested she might.

Anne had to suppress a smile as she thought of her sister’s grim prediction that Mary might strangle her with her bare hands. Of course Marianne had to have been ranting-- she couldn’t possibly think the Lady Mary was _that_ lacking in intelligence, even if she feared her… but of course, Marianne had cause to be afraid, Anne realized suddenly. Marianne’s youngest daughter, Annie Stafford, resided at Eltham Palace with the royal children, and while Annie was too obscure for her death to bring Mary any good, no mother could ever feel safe having a known murderess at liberty around her child.

When she spoke with Marianne that night, she would make sure to assure her fears and let her know that a second chance for the Lady Mary did not mean a second chance to harm any member of the royal family. She owed her sister and her closest confidante that much.

* * *

That evening, when Anne announced that she would have only her sister attend her as she prepared for bed, Marianne recognized the invitation. As soon as they were alone, Marianne broke the silence first, before Anne could say anything.

“You do know that, even if Henry demanded this of you, you can always say no.”

Anne shook her head as she sat down in front of her vanity and unclasped her hood, so that Marianne could brush her hair. “Henry didn’t demand it of me. He said outright he would go through with the appointment if-- and only if-- I was fine with it. He’d never force something like this upon me, not without my consent.”

Henry might have once appointed his mistresses as her ladies-in-waiting, without even giving her a choice in the matter, but he would never go so far as to force her to include someone who had once tried to poison her in her household. No matter how uncomfortable Anne was with the future arrangement, it had been her decision too and she was not about to blame Henry for it.

Marianne shook her head, a motion Anne saw reflected in the mirror. “I can’t understand for the life of me why you’re so determined to have that girl in your household.”

“It was either my household or the children’s household,” Anne said. “And the latter is obviously ruled out--”

“That’s not what I meant,” Marianne cut in. “You hold Henry in the palm of your hand. You could ask practically anything of him. If you ask him to jump, he’ll ask how high. If you wished it so, you could refuse to have the bastard come to court at all and keep her in the country for the rest of her natural lifespan. I mean-- this isn’t right, Anne.”

The brush working its way through Anne’s hair stilled momentarily. “Henry can’t do this to you, Anne,” Marianne stated, an undercurrent of indignation in her voice. “He can’t inflict his murdering bastard daughter upon you. Not after you gave him Harry, not after you helped end the rebellions, not after he strayed with that Seymour strumpet.”

“Just as he strayed with you?” Anne asked mischievously, coaxing a chuckle out of Marianne.

But it was only a half-jest. Marianne had never pretended she was anything other than Henry’s mistress, unlike Seymour, and in any case, Katherine had never truly been Henry’s wife.

Anne was thankful to have her sister back with her, glad that Marianne had never been one to hold grudges, even after all that had passed between them, and that they were comfortable enough that they could joke about the past together.

“In all seriousness,” Anne said, as Marianne picked up the brush and resumed her ministrations, “I can’t exploit Henry like that. It wouldn’t be right, and he isn’t as pliable as you think he is. He still has some affection for his eldest daughter, no matter what she might have done or what he might have ordered against her.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“For all her crimes, he never ordered her imprisoned or put on trial,” said Anne simply. “He still loves Mary, and even if he’ll always put Elizabeth and Harry first, he can never stop loving her. I know I could never stop loving my children, no matter what they do, and I’m sure Henry feels the same way. I would be very unwise to encourage him to act too harshly towards her. Mary-- and Edward Fitzroy-- are still his children, even if they’re baseborn. That’s why I allowed him to acknowledge the boy, why I encouraged Henry to bring his son to court. He still loves the boy and is proud of him, even if he was initially willing to deny him for my sake, and if I had tried to come between them, it might have haunted me later.”

Marianne considered this, as she finished brushing out Anne’s hair. She set the hairbrush down and motioned for Anne to stand up so that she could unlace her gown.

“It’s going to be the same with Mary, now that she has taken the Oath and he is moving closer to trusting her again,” Anne continued, as she slipped out of her day gown and into the white silk nightgown her sister offered to her. “He didn’t show it openly when he received the letter, but there was a spring in his step when he left the room. He’s genuinely glad that she has submitted to him-- not just as a king, but as a father.”

Anne swept her hair over her shoulder so that Marianne could begin lacing up the nightgown.

“It pained him when he found out Mary had betrayed him and he had to excise her from his life, and he wants to make up for the lost years. That’s why he wants to offer her a place at court, to give her a chance to prove her loyalty and earn back whatever trust can be built up between them. He wants a relationship with her, and I would be wrong to try and discourage that. You ought to understand it, Marianne,” Anne found herself trying to appeal to the mother in Marianne. “Will treats your Cathy and Hal like his own, and you wouldn’t have married him if he did anything less.”

“Fair point,” Marianne acknowledged, “but they never plotted for their stepfather’s death.”

“Fair point,” Anne countered, “but they aren’t the cousin of the most powerful monarch in Christendom. The Emperor is still the Emperor, even if he’s a stubborn dog stuck in the past, and it wouldn’t do any harm to ensure he can’t say his cousin is ill-treated.”

Marianne was taken aback by this line of reasoning, her eyebrows furrowing in surprise.

“But the Emperor hasn’t advocated on the Lady Mary’s behalf in a long time. He’s acknowledged you as Queen, and he’s even considering marrying the Infanta Juana to Harry! Surely there’s no need to take such an enormous risk to placate a man who has long since swallowed his pride,” she protested.

“Politics can change like the wind, sister. Have you not been at court long enough to realize that?” Anne snapped. She didn’t want to lose her cool, but Marianne’s naiveté was beginning to test her patience. “Or have you forgotten that less than a month ago, the rebels at St. Barbara’s called for her to be restored?”

“Only one monastery, among dozens more who all steadfastly denounced such a claim and swore allegiance to you,” Marianne insisted, but there was doubt underlying her tone.

“Even one monastery is one too many, and don’t be so foolish as to think there aren’t others scattered through the country who still call her Princess in their hearts and minds. Just because she no longer enjoys the same favor among the people as she once did doesn’t mean they can’t rise up in her name; the rebellions proved that much.”

Marianne finished lacing up Anne’s nightgown and moved to change into her own nightclothes. Anne turned away to give her some privacy, turning down the sheets herself and settling into bed. “Like it or not, the Lady Mary still has leverage, and we must counter that leverage tactfully. Destroying it outright will only arouse indignation.”

Marianne settled onto the pallet beside Anne’s great carved bed, crooking an eyebrow. “I see you’ve been taking advice from Uncle Norfolk.”

Anne smiled. “I have indeed-- although you’ll be pleased to know he agrees with you about the Lady Mary, he said as much when I spoke to him yesterday. That’s why Henry and I are giving her a chance, rather than repudiating her utterly. Serving the Queen is a very high honor, after all. I’ve been gracious, and she’s in a very fortunate position. That way, if anything should happen, the blame will fall on her head, not mine, and I can say that I did everything in my power to help her.”

Her elder sister was silent for a while. “I never thought of it that way,” she finally confessed with a wry smile. “I wasn’t thinking of the bigger picture.”

“You’ve never been one to look at the bigger picture, you’ve never thought of anyone but yourself,” Anne said severely, although her eyes were sparkling.

Marianne swatted at her, narrowly missing her.

“But it’s true!” Anne was laughing so hard her sides were beginning to ache. “Who here married a man-at-arms in secret and then announced the union by showing up at court four months gone with child? I mean, did you _honestly_ believe that that would not ruffle any feathers?”

Marianne threw a pillow at her, but she was giggling as well. “I was never cut out for the court life,” she said magnanimously. “I don’t regret coming back, don’t misunderstand me, but my heart and mind will always belong in the countryside. I don’t have the head for all these contingencies and niceties and affairs of state like you do.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m the one who became Queen in the end,” Anne said archly.

“And it’s a good thing I’m here to keep you in line, when you take these ridiculous ideas into your head, like showing the King a copy of William Tyndale’s ‘The Obedience of a Christian Man’ or inviting the Lady Mary into your household.”

Marianne retrieved her pillow from Anne and settled back onto her pallet, all briskness and every bit the sensible older sister. “I will give the girl the benefit of the doubt. I still do not like it, but I suppose it’s in our best interest to do so. I’ll be keeping a sharp eye on that girl, and I’ll make sure Nan Saville and cousin Madge are also alert as well. It will take me a long, long time to ever believe that Lady Mary can be trusted.”

They blew out the candles and settled down underneath the covers. The feather mattress was deliciously soft after a long day, and Anne sighed in pleasure as she shifted in her bed, trying to find the most comfortable position.

“It still sits ill with me, this arrangement.” Marianne spoke suddenly, in the darkness. “You can’t tell me that you have absolutely no qualms about this.”

“Of course I do,” Anne said, slightly indignant. “But even if as a mother I want to keep Mary away, I’m the Queen first and I have to think like a queen.”

“Surely your first duty as a queen is your children, and their safety,” Marianne pointed out. “Political considerations aside, their safety is the most important thing, and they ought to come first.”

Anne nodded half-heartedly, though she knew her sister couldn’t see her. “Perhaps. But I’ve been putting Elizabeth and Harry first, ahead of Mary-- ever since before they were even born.”

Marianne heard the rustling of her sister shifting in bed restlessly. “Perhaps that was why she acted against me,” Anne whispered, almost more to herself than to Marianne, with something in her voice that Marianne couldn’t identify. Silence hung heavy between them for a moment.

“As a Queen, I have to rise above my personal feelings,” Anne went on in a stronger tone. “I have to do the Christian thing, not just necessarily what _I_ want to do.”

“That might have been a reasonable attitude to take if the girl had taken the Oath when she was commanded to do so and tried to make amends, but now…”

“But she _is_ trying to make amends, even if her motives aren’t entirely pure. She humbled herself by taking the Oath and reached out, without being prompted. I can’t ignore that. It’s time for me to respond, to put her first and to give her a chance to prove herself.”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has any ideas or requests for any moments from Mary's life, seeing her interact with other Tudor figures, AU Mary-centric ideas, or even an entirely Mary-unrelated idea, leave me a comment!


End file.
